When people ask me how I’m doing,
I point to my sternum
Tell ‘em it’s a crockpot under there
That if I’m going to cook down all the hurt,
I may as well go for broke and make sure there’s enough to freeze
That way when the itch to dig through the photos comes,
I can thaw out a nice bowl of tepid chagrin
to remind myself lukewarm is no good.
***
Mackenzie Moore is an LA-based writer. She smears mustard on everything and has trouble drinking water. Her mixed media chapbook Alms Basket for your Heart is forthcoming this fall.
Rejection Letters 